


Autumn Fills - Ignis

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill, Slice of Life, autumn prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12465300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: A handful of sweet and short, autumn-themed fills. Ignoct version.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A handful of fills from [this list](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/post/166433929044/fallautumn-writing-prompts-for-your-otp) over at my [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/)

_30\. See Your Breath_

Ignis preferred to stay indoors when it started to get colder— when the clouds turned from an optimistic white to the dull slate grey with the threat of seasonal rains and cold. He preferred to stay close to home, to relax inside, with minimal travel between home and work and the errands that cycled around every week. He preferred, for once, to sleep in. 

Yet the autumn chill seemed to wake Noctis up more than any alarm. 

It would be endearing if not for the cold. 

“You’re exaggerating, Specs,” Noct said, grinning at him as they walked. 

Ignis just knew that Noct would be sick before the end of the month. A light sweater, a light jacket… His cheeks were already rosy, and his hair a mess from the wind funnelled through the canyons of stone and metal and glass of the city. “You should have worn a heavier coat, Noct.”

“It’s really not that cold,” but his hands were in his pockets and his step was just that much faster as the winds turned and seeped past his lighter jacket. “And you’re the one who wanted to get out of the apartment.”

“No, I wanted to get some errands done, and asked if you wanted to help.”

“So now you’re complaining about me agreeing to help carry groceries?”

“I’m not—” Ignis stopped himself, glaring at the prince for getting the rise out of him, for grinning at him now. His breath hung in the air as he sighed and pulled his scarf away, looping the warm material around Noct’s throat. If he gave an extra tug— a small admonishment for being a brat— Noct only grinned all the more. “You’re incorrigible, your highness.”

“Still love me?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Specs—” 

Ignis cut off the whine with a kiss, hands moving from scarf to jacket as he pulled away, smiling at the lovestruck look it left on Noct’s face. It was much easier to admire the red on his cheeks now that his lips had some sort of match. “My love for you may be in question if you get sick because you refused to dress appropriately.”

“But you still love me.”

“Always, Noct.”

—------- 

_13\. Pies_

There was always an excuse to bake, Ignis found. He enjoyed the methodical approach, the ease of the instructions, the creativity he could apply as he turned his mind to a different sort of problem. And autumn, Ignis had learnt early, had an abundance of fillings and ideas for pies of all sorts. It came with the harvest— the ease of produce working its way through the season. The light sweets of berries in summer were set aside for the richness of apples and pumpkins and plumbs. The deep colours and the wealth of flavours— the spice rather than the sweetness, the urge to make what would draw in the last remnants of warmth. 

Ignis loved it all. 

Though the desserts were one thing he knew was expected. He preferred to come up with a few new surprises. 

He preferred the dinners— the savoury pies filled with mince and meats and strange concoctions that seemed to come from every corner of Eos. They were easy meals to leave at the apartment, to trust that Noctis would pick and reheat and absently eat as he read through reports and comics alike. One day of baking could have the prince fed for a week or more if he was lazy with his numbers. If he didn’t account for Gladio or Prompto coming by. If he didn’t account for Noct’s requests for seconds. 

The pot pies were almost a stew at this point, the gravy still heavy in the air of the kitchen. The spices used to disguise the vegetables mixed in adding a new warmth to the clean counters and the fresh air filtering in through the balcony door left ajar. The heavier mince and meat pies, with their dark meat and strange mixes were the easier sort— the comfort food Ignis knew Noct preferred when the cold air really hit the city. He had picked up a Galahdian recipe this time— a method to season the meat as it was ground, to marinade the vegetables to better complement the whole. He had picked up spices imported from Cavaugh at great expense, to test another recipe found tucked away from last year that he never got around to. 

And there were the soft, light dishes of Tenebrae. The lighter meats of the birds native to the other kingdom, familiar from his own childhood. Bringing memories of family meals and warm nights spent with his uncle as they planned for a future Ignis knew his parents had never dreamed of. 

He had been sure to do all the mixing of vegetables while Noct was distracted. 

“Did you have any requests, Noct?” Ignis asked, swatting a curious hand away from the pie dough.

“Not really. Did you make any pumpkin pie this time?”

“It’s cooling, and no, you won’t have any before dinner.” Ignis slipped a second pie into the oven after a glance at his watch. He couldn’t stop the smile as Noct’s arms slipped around him; as his prince pressed them together with a soft whine and a smile. “That won’t work.”

He felt the press of Noct’s forehead against his should and the hint of a tighter hold around his waist as Noct chuckled. “It was worth a try.”


	2. Chapter 2

_3\. Falling Leaves_

The change of seasons was often something subtle in Insomnia. When Ignis was young, the only real way to tell the difference between the summer and autumn was the way the food coming from the kitchen changed— the shift from the light, cool lunches and colourful dinners to the rich, heavy, comforting flavours of autumn. The change came quickly and was easily missed, lost in the chaos of royal educations and training. Instead, the seasons and the years pressed on unnoticed as he chased after Noctis. 

When the world came crashing down around them, it had seemed like the press of time was now moving against them. That they were fighting against an ending. 

“Hey, Prom, do you want to get a picture here?”

“Yeah,” Prompto already had his camera out, twisting in his seat as he tried to snap the colours as they passed. As the reds and golds of the season fell thick and heavy against the greys of the clouds and the crispness of the air around them. “If you don’t mind, Iggy?”

“Not at all,” Ignis knew the area well now. There was a haven just inside of the trees, within sight of the roads— a plateau raised amid the forests and the trees, that had been such a thick, deep green a handful of months ago. 

Before Noct’s birthday, they had to search for the paths and trails leading through the forest, the crystalline reflection of the Disc barely visible from the camp. Now, before he even pulled into the parking spot tucked away among the far reaches of the kingdom, he could see the soft glow of ancient magics— of the haven’s promise of safety— nestled in among the brown hills and fiery trees. 

“Good place to camp a few days,” Gladiolus was the first out of the car, the first to stretch as he grabbed Prompto’s tripod on the way. 

Ignis knew, that in a few hours, there would be the chores of setting up camp. There would be games in the leaves and Noct would vanish into the woods with Gladio to search for a pond where he can catch their dinner. He knew that there would be an insistence of ghost stories around the fire, and that Noct would press close to him to ward off the chill of the evening. That the sight of the daemons crawling and growling in the distance would seem all that much darker among the broken and bare trees. 

But for now, the leaves were lovely, and as they were ordered into their lineup for Prompto’s camera, Ignis couldn’t help but brush one of the fallen leaves from Noct’s hair. 

—

_8\. Hoodies_

“Is that my sweater?” Ignis didn’t even remember where he got it, or that he owned such a thing. It resembled one of Gladio’s sweatshirts— a simple pullover with a hood, practical and well-used from their shared days training as Crownsguard cadets. 

He had thought he lost it in the move from his uncle’s home to the apartment— thrown in with the clothes meant for donation, or mistaken for one of Gladio’s, or even committed to the depths of an old closet in his family’s home or the Citadel itself. He’s not sure why his question was one of possession now, when he hadn’t thought of the thing for months. 

It must have been the way it looked on Noct— too big, too broad, and nearly falling off of him. 

“I think so? Gladio dropped it off and said it wasn’t his.”

“And so you put it on?” Ignis was teasing, checking the heat on instinct to see if the air merited the extra layer. All was well in the apartment, and he sets the shopping aside as he looks over the prince as he was: curled up in the hoodie on the sofa, hands barely visible within the long sleeves as he played whatever game he was working through. 

“It looked cozy, Specs,” Noct looked up long enough to grin at him. 

“Well, I must say,” the sight was endearing, to see Noct wrapped up in the warmth of one of his articles on clothing. Outside, beyond the balcony, the sky was grey for the season, despite the shimmer of the Wall. And Ignis set a kettle on as he returned to finishing his errands; “you look adorable in it, Noct.”

“I look adorable in everything.”

“Yes, that too.”

 

—

_14\. Toasted Marshmallows_

It was a staple of camping. Prompto had insisted, Gladio had agreed. And Noct… Well he had three bags of the things in his arms before the argument was even finished. Ignis almost regretted snatching one as they paid for the supplies and indulgences to read the list of ingredients. 

“I do expect you all to eat something remotely healthy before attempting this.”

“What do you mean ‘attempting’?” Noct had handed a bag off to Prompto before they were even in the car, the marshmallows open and being consumed before the doors were closed. “You put it on a stick and hold it over the fire. It’s pretty simple.”

“Nothing is ever simple when you two have an idea,” Ignis was already dreading the outcome, but who was he to keep them from their treats?

At least they had waited, as instructed, once they were back at the haven. There was dinner and pictures, a moment of peace between the Empire moving bases into their home, and the demands of hunts if they wanted to keep afloat among the dwindling funds they had. A moment of peace between them, with a warm fire fighting the cooling air, and the warmth of dinner calming them. 

Ignis thought that he could almost be forgiven for thinking that they’d be going home in a few days. 

Noct was pressed against him, laughing at some joke or tease from Prompto, from Gladio. And for the moment they were as safe as they could be, despite Noct offering him a flaming marshmallow at the end of a stick. 

“Good?” Noct asked once the flames were extinguished and Ignis managed to tasted the mess of sugar and goo and crisped exterior.

“Good,” he agreed, arm around his prince tightened before he could move away to impale another treat.


End file.
